


Shakedown

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 08:24:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They come in through the front doors. There’s no need to of course - Snowman can teleport where she likes and the Handmaid’s time powers give her the ability to appears wherever whenever she wants. But those powers are good for stealth, wonderful for slipping in unseen and taking what you need or adjusting the flow of things without a single person knowing. </p><p>What they’re doing is something they want everyone here to see. There need to be witnesses after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shakedown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bladeCleaner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bladeCleaner/gifts).



They come in through the front doors. There’s no need to of course - Snowman can teleport where she likes and the Handmaid’s time powers give her the ability to appears wherever whenever she wants. But those powers are good for stealth, wonderful for slipping in unseen and taking what you need or adjusting the flow of things without a single person knowing. 

What they’re doing is something they want everyone here to see. There need to be witnesses after all. 

The casino is one of a dozen ventures that’s appeared lately in the city, though unlike all those other ventures, this particular casino has opened up in a quarter of the city that has unofficially been under Felt control for two years. It’s a quiet sort of control unlike the hamfisted and inescapable grip Slick and his Crew exert over their own territories. With the exception of some minor cuts taken from a few local bars and a weapons shop, they’ve mostly left the quarter to grow under its own terms. Unfortunately, some people have mistaken a light grip for a lack of interest and now there’s a casino that’s not playing by the rules. 

Handmaid blows the doors open with her wand. Chunks of oak smash into the floor and splinters scatter through the air. Snowman is right behind her, bringing her pistol up. She casually kills the two heavyset men guarding the front door before they can draw their weapons, dropping them with bullets between their eyes. Their bodies hit the ground hard and the handmaid brings her wands up again, this time taking aim at the bar. She shatters every last bottle with a blast of energy, smashing the mirror behind the bar as well. People are screaming and bleeding and running, and Snowman calmly surveys the chaos, keeping an eye out for their real targets. 

Handmaid is a little reckless and she had no problems endangering carapacians, unwilling or perhaps unable to make a distinction between the partons and the staff. Snowman watches her blow up a pair of roulette tables before she sets a hand on the troll’s shoulder. The touch is a simple reminder for the Handmaid to control herself, and the next blast is aimed away from the mass of people running for the exits, aimed instead at an empty table. No need to say anything else to the Handmaid; she understands that she has to control herself.

They don’t want to turn the people of this town against them. And they need this story to be told in every speakeasy, every casino, every private party where people with a desire for some quick money will be reminded that the Felt’s quarter is not as unguarded as they might think. The people here need to leave alive so they can make it clear to everyone they meet from now on exactly what happened tonight, and most importantly, why it happened. 

Snowman and the Handmaid make their way through the emptying casino, parting the dwindling crowd with ease. While the Handmaid’s destruction is wild, Snowman’s is careful, using her remaining four bullets to kill dealers trying to escape with the crowd. When she stops to reload, Handmaid takes over, blasting a baccarat dealer into a fine red mist that coats the faces of a few nearby Prospitians. She hopes they’ll forget to wash their faces until they’re seen by at least a few people. Barrel loaded, she snaps it back in place and she and the Handmaid pick off the remaining members of the casino staff.

There are still people huddled here and there, under tables or behind the bar. Good. An audience is still required for this next part. She nods to the Handmaid, indicating that it’s her turn to act. The troll nods back and disappears in a flash, leaving Snowman standing in the middle of the floor. It’s very quiet here now, everyone holding their breath or muffling their panicked sobs. The silence is good, especially when she hears a creak from the second floor. She teleports two feet to the left as she turns around, and feels the bullet sail past her and through the space she was in. Her pistol rises and she puts two in shooter’s chest, and one more through the gangster’s head as she falls over the balcony. The woman’s body hit the ground a lot harder than the muscle’s did, her skull shattering against the casino floor. 

The Handmaid returns a moment later, her green dress splattered with blood, holding onto the idiot who thought he could open a casino in Felt territory and pay them nothing. The troll’s gone easy on him and he’s still breathing, though his face is a mask of blood and his right arm is shattered. The Handmaid knocks him onto the ground, cocking her head at Snowman. Seems like she’s saved this one for her. 

Snowman approaches him, forcing the man to look up at her from where he’s lying crumpled on the floor. “This place is ours.” 

He spits blood on her boots and scrambles forward, trying to escape. Snowman reaches for her pistol but Handmaid’s the one to stop her this time, pushing the gun back down. Her eyes glance to the inside of Snowman’s jacket pocket, making it clear what she wants to see. Snowman smiles slightly, holstering her gun and slipping a hand in her coat. Her whip is coiled tight there and she pulls it out, giving it a shake to loosen it. It takes two long strides to be back in range of the fleeing gangster and she aims, striking with a hard and fast horizontal whipping. The deadly black inches wrap around the man’s throat and yank him back off his feet, throwing him hard onto the floor. 

Handmaid’s there in half a second, putting a foot on his chest and holding him down as Snowman keeps yanking hard on the whip. It’s cutting through the man’s black shell and into the red flesh underneath, sawing away at his neck. It would take one more yank to break his neck, but neither she or the Handmaid are feeling particularly kind today. They let him strangle instead, making sure that everyone around them sees him die slowly and painfully. It’s a harsh lesson but one that needs to be learned. Only when he’s still and there’s no movement does she snap his neck, just to be sure, and lessen the tension on her whip until it uncoils from his neck. She rolls it up and shakes the dripping blood off the end. The Handmaid takes her foot off his chest and waits for Snowman to be finished.

They leave the way they came in, passing through the open hole that was the doorway. Tomorrow, Doc Scratch will see that the place is cleaned up and put into working order. Knowing him, there may already be staff lined up so the place will continuing running. Those details are of no interest to Snowman. 

On the front steps, Snowman pulls out a pack of cigarettes, helping herself to one and offering another to Handmaid. The troll takes her and insists on lighting both with the glowing tips of the wands before she pulls her hair back up into a bun and pins it in place with them. There’s a wail and a whine of sirens in the distance but they pay them no mind at all, simply enjoying a smoke in the cool night air.


End file.
